Of Wraith and Socks
by albert12
Summary: Oneshot. Ronon Dex singlehandedly fends off a wrath attack- using a pair of John Sheppard’s socks.


I'm back with another piece of Stargate silliness ! This is my first piece about story (if you count out "Things not to do on Atlantis") about Stargate: Atlantis, however.

I had the idea for this story a while ago. It wasn't until just recently that I found the time and inspiration to write it down.

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It started out as a relatively normal mission. Rodney had wanted to set up some sort of scientific outpost on an uninhabited planet, and needed a Jumper to carry all the various stuff he needed to get it set up. Unfortunately, the best site for the observatory was several hundred yards away from the Stargate, through heavy forest. They were forced to leave the jumper and carry several thousand pounds of equipment. By the time they got there, Ronon was contemplating stunning the next person who asked him to go on a science mission.

Shortly after they got there, Sheppard had made some excuse about 'reporting back in' and wondered off in the direction of the Stargate. Ronon knew that it was only an excuse- the real reason was that he and John had finally gotten their paws on a copy of _Lord of the Rings: Return of the King._ And stayed up until 2:30 AM watching it.

A few minutes later, Ronon noticed something very unnerving- his blaster was not in its holster. In a panic, the big Satedan began checking the surroundings for his favorite weapon. But the energy revolver was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

_Sheppard filched it!_

The giant alien bolted toward the Puddle Jumper, his mind full of the various ways he could inflict pain upon his commanding officer.

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By the time he got there, he was seething. The ramp was down, and he stalked quietly up it and into the gateship. John was sleeping on one of the benches, his sock-clad feet propped up on a case of ammunition. His boots were sitting on the floor beside him. The blaster, however, was nowhere in sight. Dex checked the cockpit. Nothing there. He got down on his hands and knees and checked under the seats. Still no blaster.

He checked in John's boots. A horrendous smell, but no blaster. He checked the control-crystal drawers in the ceiling. No blaster.

Ronon was just on the verge of tearing the ship apart when he suddenly remembered- he hadn't brought it with him. He had forgotten to plug it into the recharger the evening before, and the battery had gone dead. He had been forced to leave it on the recharger and take a P-90 instead.

Oh, well, coming here shouldn't be a total loss. He could at least get himself a snack while he was here. He snatched a box of MREs off the overhead shelf. They weren't that bad of a snack, if you didn't put the little bottle that said "Tabasco Sauce" on anything.

But then, he could always put that in McKay's homemade sunblock.

Ronon quietly picked out a package labeled "Turkey with gravy" (Why Sheppard called that kind "Wild Turkey Surprise", he would never know) opened it, and activated the strange little heater-thing that came with it.

The unfortunate thing about MREs is that they take a few minutes to cook. Those few minutes allow angry Satedans to plot revenge.

Ronon carefully walked to the back of the jumper, and, using all the care he could muster, removed Sheppard's socks. He then walked down the ramp and pulled them on to the two prongs of the DHD. He was walking back up the ramp when he heard the distinctive "Klunk" of a chevron dialing.

Seven years as a runner had taught him well that you didn't know what was coming through a Stargate until it came through, and, often enough, it wasn't something nice.

He bolted up the ramp, running his hand over the door crystal. As the ramp slid up, he grabbed the remote control and switched the ship's cloaking device on. The little ship vanished into thin air.

Not a second too late. Ten Wraith warriors stepped through the gate, armed to the teeth. The leader raised his head to bark a command-

And caught a whiff of Sheppard's socks. This Wrath apparently had a good sense of smell, because he instantly clamped a hand over his nose and made a run for the DHD. It took him two tries, but he finally made it to the dialing device.

Ten seconds later, the entire group of wrath had disappeared back through the gate, holding their noses and looking as ill as a scary life-sucking alien can.

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Well, how did I do? Excellent? Horrible? Somewhere in between? Review and let me know!


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